Running Into My Ex at Publix
With all the hard pains passed
we stand in silence—two years
and shopping carts between us—
pretending to search for expected friends,
hoping some familiar face will save us.
Without much to say
that hasn’t already been said,
we swap half-smiles, ask about deli deals.
Soon, we’ll make polite excuses and go
different directions at rush hour.
One learns to check fruit for ripeness,
feeling hard skin for soft spots. One learns
to buy just enough—and to eat it
before it all goes bad.
Marissa Glover teaches and writes in Florida, where she spends most of her time sweating. Her work is found in After the Pause, Amaryllis, Clear Poetry, Solstice Sounds, and other journals. Read more at MarissaGlover.wordpress.com and follow her on Twitter.